Operation ZAGR
by Kioasakka
Summary: Zim's mission to conquer Earth comes to a standstill when he becomes consumed by his affection for the Gaz-human. His new mission? Win her over. But Dib has a new plan in mind. ZAGR. Slightly AU.
1. Operation ZAGF

Summary: Zim's mission to conquer Earth comes to a standstill when he becomes consumed by his affection for the Gaz-human. His new mission? Win her over. Gir gives (not the greatest) advice. ZAGR.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the crappy beginning. I'm in a bit of a writing rut at the moment and so if this is worse than what I normally push out, I apologize. My latest obsession has been Invader Zim, and so I needed to pump out some ZAGR fanfiction. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. :)

Also, 'Operation ZAGR' is different in the story than its title meaning... the original Operation ZAGR is written, it's called Operation ZAGF, for Zim-and-Gaz-Friendship, and includes a trap for Dib. When we get to the bit in the summary, Zim renames it as 'Operation ZAGF 2,' but through a mess-up with the F, it becomes 'Operation ZAGR.'

—

Chapter 1:

Operation ZAGF

—

"Okay, Gir, obviously my plans have been less than fruitful. The filthy earth-human Dib keeps getting in the way." The speaker was pacing back and forth in his underground base, rubbing his black-gloved, three-fingered hands together in thought. He was talking more to himself than to the small blue-eyed robot he'd addressed. "It has been six earth-years since I first landed on this stinking planet… And it is clear to me now that the Dib-stink is possibly the most advanced of his species, and some kind of Earthenoid warrior meant to keep me from conquering what rightfully belongs to the Irken Empire. Eliminating him would be the best option, but he has foiled my plans for that as well… So perhaps just containing him might hold him for awhile."

"Masta contain Dib!" the little robot shrieked gleefully, falling over in a fit of giggles.

"GIR! Enough with your foolishness! There is much to do! _Soooo_ much!" He turned to face the screen before him and exclaimed, "COMPUTER! Show me where the_ filthy_ earth-Dib is now."

The screen flickered, and revealed the human in question sitting on his couch at home eating Cornflakes and muttering in between each bite. "Stupid Zim," he grumbled. "Stupid alien. With his stupid green skin and _stupid_ disguise… Stupid take-over-the-world plans… which never _work,_ anyway! Stupid Zim… why does he even try anymore?"

Gir gasped in happiness. "I love this shoooow," he sighed.

The alien known as Zim clenched his fists. "So, he thinks he's smarter than me," he mused angrily. "He thinks he's safe sitting at his little earth-house eating his dis_gusting_ earth cereal. Well he's WROOONG!"

He was about to turn away and rant some more when he heard Dib cry out, "GAZ! Give me back the remote!"

The Dib-stink's little sister plopped down on the couch and changed the channel, holding the remote out of her brother's reach.

Zim faltered for a minute and then blinked in confusion. Had the earth-female always been so appealing to the eyes? She was fifteen now, and though she was still the same person from when she was nine, she had an interestingly curved body and her face was surprisingly pleasant to look at.

"Your shows are always lame," she informed her brother, who had given up the fight for the remote, though he was perfectly capable physically to take it back from her. "Besides, I have a previous engagement with my online friends. Go be a dork somewhere else."

Dib crossed his arms over his chest. "Gaz, I won't drive you to school tomorrow if you aren't nice to me."

She shrugged. "So? I'll take the bus or walk like I've done all my life anyway." She snickered. "Or maybe I'll ask Zim if he'll give me a lift in his space ship."

Dib's mouth fell open and Zim narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Me, give the earth-female a ride to school?" he wondered aloud, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. That doesn't sound_ too_ horrible." He glanced back at the screen.

"You would rather have that—that— _alien_ take you to school than your own_ brother_?" Dib cried incredulously.

"Christ, Dib, it was just a joke," the Gaz-human replied, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, lighten up."

Zim examined the girl like she were a creature he'd never before seen. "Hm… it appears that the Dib-stink is particularly repulsed by the very idea of the Gaz-human being transported to school with me in my own vehicle. And if it causes the filthy Dib annoyance, then surely, I must do it!" He began to laugh his manic laugh when yet another idea hit him. "Wait! If Dib doesn't want me interacting with his sister, then perhaps I could use the earth-female to lure Dib into a trap! A trap so horrible, so ingenious, that he will NEVER escape from it!" He let out another long laugh of triumph. "The Dib-human will never see it coming," he went on, rubbing his hands together and grinning wickedly. "I will befriend his little_ sister_ and bring about his ultimate DOOM! And then, all of mankind shall fall to ME! It's genius! GENIUS!"

He turned his attention back to the screen. Dib had left the room and left the Gaz-human alone on the couch playing Call of Duty 4. Zim was caught in a second momentary daze when he looked at her. She was actually _very_ nice on the eyes. It was pleasant to just sit back and watch her button-mash as she always did, with her characteristic determined scowl and her still shockingly good looks. Her purple hair hung down straight and only slightly passed her shoulders, and Zim found it oddly attractive. Why hadn't he ever noticed this strange beauty before? Had he been so consumed by his plans for the destruction of the human race that he had never really looked at the earth-female?

Well, yes, naturally…

He let out a low chuckle. "This will be my greatest plan yet," he bragged to himself. "Making friends with the Dib-stink's sister to get rid of him and take over this _filthy _planet… why haven't I thought of it before?" He (somewhat reluctantly) turned off the screen and pulled out a roll of paper to begin making blueprints for the Dib trap. Before starting on that, however, he wrote on a smaller slip of paper some basic steps for how he might go about making the Gaz-human his friend.

"You better watch out, Dib," he said with an evil grin. "My plan shall commence before you know it, and you will fall victim to my trap! Beware the might of Zim!"

He wrote down the name of the plan on the top of both pieces of paper and held them up. "I call it… Operation ZAGF!"


	2. Filthy Earthen Talk Technology

A/N: Wow, thanks everybody; I did _not _expect such an immediate response to this story :D I don't think I've ever submitted a new story before bed and woken up to 7 new reviews before. It's awesome :D Thanks so much ^_^ Anyway, here's chapter two :)

PS: I know in the show it's called Skool, but like... that's so... stupid XD I'll only use 'Skool' as a title. They go to high school, but the name is Hi Skool.

It seems Gaz's language has gotten...a bit more colourful. Hahaha.

—

Chapter 2:

Filthy Earthen Talk-Technology

—

Gaz finished her game just in time for Dib's stupid new favorite show. "I'm ordering pizza," she told him on her way to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, sipping it as she brought up the number for Bloaty's Pizza on her cell. It was speed dial number two.

For whatever reason, with the immersive trance brought on by video games fading, she began to think about her pre-game argument with Dib. What had they been arguing over again? Something about getting a ride to school with Zim. Gaz smirked. That would definitely piss off Dib. Too bad the stupid alien would never allow it anyway. Unless she made him. But that seemed like too much effort anyway for something that wouldn't be matched in benefits.

After ordering the pizza, she decided to go hole up in her room and play Counterstrike. Just when she was pulling her computer out of standby, her phone rang. Someone was calling her? The number wasn't in her Caller I.D., so she figured it was probably a prank call or a telemarketer, and let it go to voicemail. When the message was done, she turned on speaker phone to listen and logged in to her Steam account.

"—and I was calling to ask—wait, what's this?"

Her fingers froze and she sat very still, listening carefully. The voice obviously belonged to Zim. But why had he called her?

"—STOP TALKING OVER ME—Oh, it's a recording…" He laughed nervously into the phone, and then went on, "AHEM, anyway, I suppose this is the part where I explain my reasons behind calling to this… recordy… _machine_… thing. Hopefully the earth-female will get my message before tomorrow morning, or else this message will be WORTHLESS!"

She rolled her eyes. Six years on this planet and he still didn't know how to operate basic Earth technology. And Dib still believed he was capable of destroying the earth. What a joke.

"Ahm… So anyway, MY MOTIVES behind this call is that I wanted to ask if—"

"End of message," said the phone. "To delete this message…"

_"What?" _Gaz demanded aloud. "He spent so much time rambling that he didn't even ask the stupid question?" She seized her phone and pushed 7 to delete the message, then exited out of voicemail and hurried to call Zim.

—

"GAH! I _hate_ this earthen talk-technology!" Zim took the phone in his hand and threw it against the wall. "I call, and some female picks up, so I talk, but it's a _recording,_ and then I talk more, and the _same_ female tells me I am out of TIME? This is an OUTRAAAGE!"

"I knooow what you meeean," said Gir sympathetically, though Zim knew the little robot had no idea what he was talking about.

Suddenly, the phone began to buzz and make a loud musical noise, startling them both. Gir began to scream, and Zim rushed over to answer it. "HELLO?" he asked, a bit too loudly. "HELLO? _GIR! _Shut up, I am on the talking device! HELLO?"

"Okay, you have _got _to stop with the yelling," hissed the female voice on the other end.

"Dib-sister!" exclaimed Zim enthusiastically. "You have returned my call. That is MOST_ EXCELLENT! _What can Zim do for you? Or rather, what is it that YOU can do for ZIM? That seems to be the most suitable question for a filthy worm-baby like you to ask of the AMAZING—"

"Can you just shut the fuck up?" asked the Dib-sister, cutting him off. "Jesus, you _never_ stop _talking,_ do you?"

Zim scowled irritably, his antennae lying flat against his head, but said nothing.

The earth-female exhaled loudly. "Now, then," she said curtly, "why did you call me? What did you want to ask? And you better tell me now, or so help me, I will go to your house and rip off your stupid—"

"The superior Zim insists that he take the Dib-sister in his ship to that dreaded… _school._"

She was silent for a moment. What was this? Zim was offering a ride to school? Why? How did— _Oh, _she realized._ He probably was watching us on his stupid cameras. Like a total__…__ creeper._ "And just _why,_" she growled, "would I let_ you_ take me to school?"

He straightened up and put on his most diplomatic tone as he said, rather quickly, "It has come to my attention that I have been particularly rude to you since my arrival here six years ago. I have seen the error of my ways and would like to make it up to you, and hopefully amend our relationship so that we might be somewhat cordial towards each other." Then, sounding a bit more like himself, he asked in his lowest Zim-voice, _"What say youuu?"_

Involuntarily, her jaw dropped a little. "You can't be serious."

"Zim has never been more serious in his life."

_That_ took her by surprise. She countered mockingly, "Oh yeah? More serious than taking over the earth?"

He hesitated, nearly about to say something along the lines of a denial, that he would never do such a thing—but the Dib-sister knew, anyway. So he put on his most serious voice and told her, "Yes."

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that. What could it hurt, really? Just a ride to school, whatever… and it would totally piss off her brother. But what if it was a trap? One of Zim's stupid schemes to get at Dib? Well… she could handle it. She was way smarter than Zim, anyway. She'd see it coming. Still she felt the need to warn him, "If this is some kind of trap, _Zim,_ believe me, I will—"

"Yes, yes, do some horribly unspeakable thing to me probably involving limb removal and such," he interrupted, speaking fast. "I get it. It's not a trap. Really."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but finally grumbled, "Fine, then. You can give me a ride to school."

His overwhelming joy shocked them both. "Sweet! The Dib-sister will not be disappointed! It will be the best ride to school ever!"

"Umm, yeah," she agreed sarcastically, stunned by his sincere-sounding enthusiasm. "Whatever… see you tomorrow, Zim. And you better not be late."

"Fear not, Dib-sister! Zim is late for NOTHING!"

Not waiting to hear more, she hung up, and dropped the phone into her lap. She stared blankly at the computer screen for a moment, trying to figure out what had just happened. Had she really just given in to getting a ride to school from Zim? What the hell was wrong with her?

She shook her head and said loudly, "It's just a ride to school! Jeez…" And it meant she didn't have to ride with Dib. Or walk. Or take the disgusting bus. As she booted up her game, a traitorous little voice in her head suggested that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

In his house, Zim looked at Gir with an accomplished smile on his face. "Well, Gir," he announced, "looks like the plan's going very smoothly, as predicted. I shall keep my word to this earthen worm-baby. The ride to school will _not _be a trap. It will be pleasant. And the pleasantries shall continue until I have completely befriended the human. My most brilliant plan yet…"

Gir nearly crumpled up in glee and pulled out a pink pig from behind his back. "LOOKIT," he cried, "I GOTS A PIGGY! WEEE!"


	3. A Ride to Skool

A/N: Thanks again everybody for the enthusiasm! You should keep it up :) Reviews are nice...yes... xD;

Also, if Gaz seems a little OOC, I'm apologize, but I am writing her as a fifteen-year-old, and in the show she was nine. I'm just writing her as one of many ways I portray her as having grown into. Were you, at fifteen, the same person you were at nine? I sure wasn't. So again, I apologize if she is not the same character as in the show, but Gaz has grown up quite a bit since then, and it's fair game as to how she ends up. I hope you enjoy her anyway. :)

—

Chapter 3:

A Ride to Skool... Maybe

—

"So, Gaz, I gotta be at school early today, so be ready to take off about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule."

She raised her eyebrow at him over her cereal. "I thought we had this discussion," she grumbled. "I'm not riding with you today, remember?"

Dib frowned. "I thought you were kidding around," he admitted. "How are you gonna get there?"

"Like I said." She swirled her spoon around in her bowl, making the colored marshmallows bleed into the milk. "I can walk or take the bus. Doesn't matter."

He sat down in his chair and poured his own cereal, but still looked a bit confused. "Well, okay, whatever then. Can you pass the milk?"

She glared at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yeesh, fine, I'll get it myself." He reached across the table for it, and told her, "You know, Gaz, you're never gonna have any friends or attract a guy by being such a bitch all the time."

Her fists slammed down on the table and the cereal box was knocked over when she lunged for Dib's neck. His chair fell backwards and they fell to the floor, where she pinned him down with her knees and gripped his shirt, growling at him. "You want to try that one again?" she hissed.

He scowled at her and very easily freed himself and pushed her off of him. He stood and brushed himself off before picking up his chair. "That's not going to work anymore," he informed her. "I'm about twice your size now. And you've _got_ to control your freakin' temper."

She'd hauled herself back into her chair, fuming silently over her pathetic defeat. "I'll kill you for that," she threatened darkly.

"See? That's exactly the kind of stuff I'm talking about." He shook his head. "I'm really worried about you, Gaz. Teenage girls are supposed to have friends and like boys. Even _I_ have friends and a girlfriend, and nobody ever thought _that_ would happen. But you still eat lunch by yourself."

Determined not to sit through another word, she picked up her cereal and stormed out of the kitchen and up to her room. Once her door was violently slammed shut and locked, she let herself slide against it to the floor and stare at her soggy breakfast, which was blurred in her vision. She spooned and sipped a little bit of the milk, but she wasn't very hungry anymore. Her eyes burned.

Why did Dib feel the need to bring up stuff like that? As if she were not painfully aware that it was abnormal to have no friends. She had online friends, but they only talked to her because they didn't know her, had never met her. She had no _real,_ physical friends to spend time with. But what could she do? She was going to school with the same people she'd been going to school with all her life, and they all had long ago judged her "unfriendable." Not that she'd want to be friends with any of_ them,_ but…

It was this sort of thing that made her crave the privilege of a mother. A fifteen-year-old girl needed a mother, to fight with and go to for advice. She'd asked her father about what happened to her mother on several occasions, but he had always ignored her questions. And it didn't help that, for as long as she could remember, her father had been too busy to spare any quality time with her or her brother, though Dib had always gotten more of his attention. She wasn't even sure her father knew her name; he'd called her "Daughter" for so long… But what news was any of that anyway? She had no friends, her father ignored her, and her brother couldn't stand her. What could possibly make her think a mother would ever love her? Wasn't she "Dib's scary sister?" What mother would love a girl so "scary?"

In the heat of sudden rage, Gaz threw her bowl across the room. Milk and cereal fell out onto the ground as the bowl flew into the wall, where it shattered and dropped to the floor. The milk began instantly to seep into the carpet, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Gaz?" Dib called. She could hear him running up the stairs. "What the hell was that?" He began to shake her locked knob. "Gaz, open up!"

"Oh, don't worry about me, big brother!" she shouted through the door. "I'm perfectly fine, not that you care anyway!"

"Seriously, Gaz, what did you break? Are you hurt?"

She laughed bitterly. "Oh, so _now_ you care? All righty then!" She stood and unlocked the door, stepping out of the way as Dib burst in. He turned to her and her fist smashed into his cheek, knocking his glasses aside.

He yelled and clutched at his face, staggering back. "What the _hell,_ Gaz?" he spat, leaning down to retrieve his glasses from the floor. He just managed to snatch them before her foot could crush them.

"Get OUT of my ROOM!" she shrieked, running over to grab a large piece of cereal bowl. "GET OUT!"

"You're_ crazy_!" he accused, putting his glasses back on his face as he dashed out the door. "You need help!"

"Yeah? Well here's what I think of your 'help'!" She raced to the stairs and violently hurled the ceramic dish at him. He ducked and it flew over his head into the wall, where it crashed and broke further. Dib jumped over the pieces, grabbed his backpack and keys, and flew out the front door. It slammed shut, and Gaz allowed herself to scream loudly in fury before bursting into angry tears.

_"Dib!"_ she cried, even though he was not there to hear. "You're so stupid! You're so fucking _stupid!_"

Taking a few quick, haggard breaths to try and calm herself, she forced her tears to stop and shuffled dejectedly into her room, where her shaky hand reached for one of her favorite hand-held games. She sniffed and booted up the game, feeling almost instantly comforted by the familiarity of buttons and sounds she knew so well.

—

The alarm in Zim's base went off as a reminder that it was time to leave and retrieve the Dibsister for school. He made his way up into the house part of his base, where Gir was on the couch watching television.

"Gir, I'm heading out," the alien informed his robot, sticking a contact on his eye. "Don't touch anything important, you got that?"

"Masta get girlfriend now?" Gir asked, smiling widely at Zim.

Zim shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend, Gir," he snapped. "She's a girl I am making my friend."

The robot seemed confused. "Girl friend is not girlfriend?" he inquired.

"No, Gir. Girl friend is not girlfriend. The Dibsister is to be my girl _friend,_ not my _girlfriend. _A girlfriend, as I understand it, is a female human love-pig and the object of a male human's affection. Sister of Dib is neither for Zim, and is being made a 'friend' only so Zim can destroy the Dib. Do you get it now?"

"YES! Wait—no."

Zim rolled his eyes, then inserted the second contact and adjusted his wig. He'd gotten one in later years that could grow hair, so it looked more natural. It was getting a bit shaggy, and hung in his face. "Anyway," he said, pushing a strand of black hair out of his eyes, "I'm out."

"BYE!" The robot waved at him enthusiastically as he left to head up to the roof where the Voot Cruiser was parked.

—

Gaz played until she heard the doorbell ring. She was momentarily surprised at the sound, but quickly regained her remembrance and grabbed her backpack. As she stood and turned to leave, her eyes caught the mess she'd made, and she sighed, knowing the carpet would probably have to be torn out from mildew. And it wasn't as if she'd get in trouble for it, either. Her father more than likely wouldn't even know about it, or care if he did. Just pay for a new one. Don't worry about the pain that had caused it.

Still clutching her paused game in one hand, she made her way down the stairs and to the front door. She opened it to find Zim reaching to ring the bell again. He stopped and said pleasantly, "Good morning, Dibsister. Are you ready to leave?"

_Dibsister. _She clenched her fist around her game.

"Yes, I'm ready," she said through her teeth, her voice low and dangerous. "And I have a _name,_ you know. Gaz. Ring a bell? My name is Gaz."

He frowned slightly, then replied, "This is something which Zim knows well. There is nothing that Zim does not know! For Zim is ZIM!"

"You'd better cut that out," she warned, keeping still and rigid, despite a fierce need to strangle him. _He's not the one who hurt you, _she reminded herself. _He's not the one who should die. He's stupid, but he's harmless._ "I'm not exactly in the mood. If you want to keep all your limbs, you'll stop with the third person and the yelling. Now let's go." She stepped out and slammed the door shut, which locked itself automatically, and stormed over to Zim's stupid ship, which was parked on her front lawn.

He beat her to it and lifted the windshield so they could climb inside. When she fastened the seat belt he'd installed the previous year to meet legal vehicle regulations (having had run into some issues concerning such things), he remembered to click in his own, and then booted up the Cruiser.

"Soooo," he began casually as he began to lift into the air, "how are you?"

She was about to bark at his question when a sudden impulse possessed her to say instead, "Wait—don't fly. Use the road."

He blinked at her in confusion, but (to her surprise) complied, and lowered the vehicle to the ground, where it hovered lazily.

"Thank you," she murmured, looking out her window and avoiding his gaze. She ran her thumb over the pause button on her game, but did not press it.

"You are… welcome," he replied, refocusing his eyes away from her as he began to turn the Cruiser around and move it onto the road.

She turned her head toward him, but looked only at his knee. He was still wearing the same outfit he'd worn since elementary school. "Sorry," she said quietly. "I know flying's a lot faster."

"Fear not, Dibsi—er, Gaz-human." He looked at her warily, as if expecting her to yell at him, but all she did was raise her eyes a little. He looked back at the road. "It does not matter either way to Zim."

They drove on in silence for awhile, Zim making the occasional subtle glance at Gaz out of the corner of his eye while she stared vacantly out the window at the passing scenery, debating over whether or not to unpause her game.

"God, I hate school," she growled finally, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's such a waste of time."

"Tell me about it," Zim agreed, scowling. "Such useless _filth_ they teach us in that place! Even after six years on your stupid planet, I cannot seem to understand how any of what is learned in 'school' is used in human life!"

"It's _not,_ that's the thing. We're never going to use any of that stuff."

"Then what is the POINT? Why even GO?"

A light bulb flicked on in Gaz's head. School meant class, work, teachers, lectures, idiots, and Dib. And what would make Dib worry or pissed off more than knowing she didn't come to school? She smiled and shut her game off, then turned in her seat to face Zim. "That's actually a great idea," she said excitedly. "Let's play hooky."

"Hooky?" He frowned. "What is this 'hooky' game of which you speak?"

She smirked. "Six years here and you still really don't know much, do you?" she taunted. "And it's not a game. It's kind of a codeword that means purposefully not going to school."

Zim's eyes widened in interest, and then a wicked grin curled onto his face. "All right, then, Gaz-human… we shall not go to school today. Tell me! Where does one go when one plays the game of hooky?"


	4. Hennes & Mauritz AB

—

Chapter 4:

Hennes & Mauritz AB

—

The mall was really the last place Gaz wanted to be, and just the place security would think to look for kids ditching school, but somehow that was where she directed Zim and where they now stood.

"What now, Gaz-human?" he inquired of her. "Begin me on this lesson of the hooky."

"Well, first of all, you can't go around saying we're playing hooky," she told him, stifling the urge to roll her eyes or drip her words with sarcasm. It really wasn't Zim's fault he was so ignorant. "It's suspicious and we may be overheard and caught."

He nodded. "So, then, what do we do now?"

She looked around and noticed they were in an H&M. When her eyes landed again on her green-skinned companion, he was brushing something off the sleeve of his… outfit… thing. She huffed irritably, but knew what she had to do. "Now, we get you some clothes."

He looked up at her in shock. "Clothes?" he asked. "Zim has these 'clothes' of which you speak."

"No, you have one outfit you've worn for over six years. That's not normal human behavior. We need to get you some things that a teenage human guy would actually wear. Starting…" She looked him over again. "…With pants," she finished.

She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him over to the Men's side of the store, where she then proceeded to pull off jeans from the shelves. She held up a pair and eyed the size. They seemed a little big, but she tossed them to him anyway. "Over there," she said, pointing to the dressing room. "Go try them on. And wear this on top." She haphazardly grabbed a black t-shirt off a rack and threw it to him.

He frowned at the garments in his arms, scowled suspiciously at her, then wandered into the dressing rooms.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. There were a bunch of little cubicle-like boxes, some with open doors and others with closed. "Hmmm," he mused. "It seems as though I should change into these… _clothes _in one of these boxes. This is absurd." He growled but headed reluctantly into one and closed the door. "But if it will please the Dibsister, then I suppose it doesn't hurt… And it would suit my mission well to blend in more with the indigenous life form, though I fail to see the flaw in my already perfect disguise…"

He pulled off his uniform and looked quizzically at the shirt. He opened it at the bottom and observed it for a moment, then successfully got it over his head with the head and arms in the right holes. It was way too big for him and hung to his knees, but he shrugged and made to put on the pants. They fit all right around the hip area, but were far too long. He picked up his uniform and shuffled out back to the Gaz-human. He cleared his throat loudly and yelled, "How does Zim look in this outfit? Do I AMAAAAZE YOUU?"

She turned and laughed out loud when she saw him. "That shirt is ridiculously huge. Here—" she combed through the same rack of shirts and grabbed a medium and pulled it off the hook. "Try this," she said, handing it to him. "Just change here; you're a guy, doesn't matter for shirts."

He scowled again, shrugged, and shed the oversized shirt. Gaz's eyes widened as her brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity at his flat green chest. It was absolutely flat, and looked shiny, as if slick. There was no indication of pectorals or an abdomen, and of course there were no nipples. It was the oddest thing she'd ever seen, and in a moment he had the smaller, better-fitting shirt on and the bizarre view of Zim's bare skin was obstructed.

"Okay," she said, "now that's _much _better. What size are those jeans…?"

"These—_jeans,_" he asked; "are they supposed to be this long?"

They were at least four inches too long, but they fit so nicely around his waist… hip… area… thing. Zim was a pitiful five foot five (a height which he, unbeknowest to Gaz, obtained through a yearly experiment on himself to grow a little taller so as to not be differed from his peers), and terribly skinny, so whatever would fit him around was doomed to be too long. His bare green feet poked out from underneath the bunched-up fabric. He had four toes.

"Eh, well, we could get them hemmed, but that's costly." She bit the inside of her cheek in thought, watching him with a scrutinizing eye. "We could always just take the scissors to it…"

They spent an hour in the place trying on clothes for Zim, and when Gaz decided they were finally finished and purchased the items, the alien boy stopped her.

"Now, Gaz-human," he said menacingly, "you have suffered me through this _'shopping'_ excursion, and I was kind enough to humor you. But now it is Zim's turn to suffer _you_!"

She blinked in surprise, then laughed. "Oh, yeah," she said, "right. Good one, Zim, but I don't wear anything from H&M—"

"It is TOO LATE!" he cried, pointing up at the ceiling enthusiastically, and then snapping his arm down to place his finger in between her eyes. "YOUUU! will try on EVERYTHING I select for you from the female clothing section of this store. Failure to cooperate will result in your termination in the form of _pain_." A wicked smile broke the deadly serious expression on his face and he cackled, rubbing his hands together. "Oh, yesssss. Soooo much PAIN. Heh heh heh."

Rather than going for some snarky comment about how pathetic and empty his threats were, she feigned fear. In obvious exaggeration, she widened her eyes and opened her mouth, and exclaimed, "Oh, no! You _wouldn't_!" She threw her free hand to her forehead and swooned, then snickered.

He scowled at her. "Zim does not appreciate your mocking," he informed her seriously. "I _would _do it, and I would enjoy it."

She rolled her eyes, smiling, and headed toward the ladies' room. All at once, the weight of all her woes from this morning fell back on her, and her smile vanished. "Fine," she said tiredly, dumping the bag of clothes for him on a bench and sank beside them with a sigh. She looked at Zim with jaded eyes. "Go get me something, then."

But he wouldn't go. Something was different, he noticed. Uncertain, he examined her: she looked tired, as if she had aged a tremendous amount in the blink of an eye. And something else, too. She seemed… almost… sad.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than it had ever been, "are, um… are you all right? The Gaz-human does not look very well."

She watched him warily, stunned by this display of concern from Zim, but too exhausted for it to show on her face. She dropped her head and eyes at the uniform Zim had changed back into. He was so strange. The thought crossed her mind that he seemed rather like an insect, yet somehow humanlike too. She sighed again.

"We… we do not _have _to try on any female clothes," the alien suggested. Oddly, this struck Gaz as very funny, and she began to laugh. The laughs were pitiful and empty, and before they knew it, they'd become sobs. Zim had to take a step back from the surprise. What was going on? The Dibsister was crying… but why? He became very uncomfortable, and realized he didn't know what to do now. His usual response to tears was laughter or scorn, but neither seemed appropriate now. The Gaz-human wasn't upset because he'd done something (purposefully) cruel, but what else could it possibly be? Discomfort seized him and he could do nothing about it. He had a sudden urge to put his hand on her shoulder, a thought that startled him so badly, he had to grab onto a clothesrack to keep from slamming himself to the wall and bashing his head against it.

After several agonizingly long moments, he burst out, "Come now, stop this nonsense! Tell me what is wrong so I might fix it and stop this senseless crying! Tell me! TELL ME!"

A store employee made her way towards them, her face plastered with concern. "Excuse me," she said when she approached, "is everything all right over here?"

"Beat it, foolish worm-baby!" Zim snapped. "Does she _look _all right to you? Leave us alone! You're embarrassing her!"

The employee's cheeks reddened. "Please do not speak to me like that, sir," she forced out. "I was merely asking a question. There is no need to be so rude."

"A STUPID question! And how dare you question the almighty—!"

_"Zim," _said Gaz emphatically. He and the employee stared at her. She had wiped away the tears on her face and had stopped crying, but her eyes were still ringed with red. "Stop it. Please. You're causing trouble. Let's just go, okay?"

"Thank you, miss," said the employee flatly.

Zim blinked at the Gaz-human, then shot a last glare at the employee before complying. He grabbed the bag full of his new clothes and followed Gaz out of the store.

"I appreciate what you were trying to do for me back there," she told him, "but I don't want you making scenes for my sake. I know that'll probably be tough for you, since you make scenes all the time, but—"

"What do you mean, Zim makes scenes all the time?" he demanded, offended. "Zim does no such thing!"

"Whatever, Zim!" she said irritably. "Okay? Just… forget it."

They stood there for a moment, and then she grumbled, "I'm hungry. Let's get food." Silent and brooding, Zim followed her to the food court. He wasn't sure at all what had just happened or why they'd just argued. He was so confused. Humans were so complicated.


	5. Biological Superiority

A/N: Sorry for the short and crappy chapter. But, hey, an update's an update, right? :P

By the way, some ideas as to what Gaz and Zim should do next on their hooky adventure would be greatly appreciated, as I am running out, haha.

—

Chapter 5:

Biological Superiority

—

_"You know, Gaz, you're never gonna have any friends or attract a guy by being such a bitch all the time."_

Dib rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, guilt blooming in his stomach. What he'd said that morning had really not been called for at all, now that he thought about it. His girlfriend, Amy, would kill him if she knew he'd called his little sister a bitch. He knew the term was degrading, and certainly not something you referred to your _sister _as.

He smacked his fist forcefully but quietly on his desk. How stupid was he?

Lifting his pencil to his lips to chew lightly on the eraser, he wondered if Gaz planned to kill him tonight when he was asleep. He'd have to double, no, triple check his entire room for traps and lock it extra tight… maybe put on his security alarm…

"No," he muttered under his breath. "Absolutely not." Maybe Gaz thought otherwise, but he did pay attention to her. At least, enough to know that something had been happening to her over the years. She was still angry, as she'd always been, but it had changed somehow. He couldn't be sure, but there was something different about the way she responded to things than when they were kids. It was almost… methodical. Methodical, but lacking in force. Like she just went through the motions but didn't really feel it anymore. Like she was putting up a front.

Like she was hiding something.

"But what could Gaz be hiding?" he wondered, so softly his lips barely moved. The teacher's lecture over, he opened his textbook to start on the homework, but his mind was far from linear regression.

_"You're crazy! You need help!"_

_"Oh, don't worry about me, big brother! I'm perfectly fine, not that you care anyway!"_

He lowered his head to his desk, then hit it hard. How could he have been so stupid? Yes, she had been throwing sharp pieces of broken ceramic at him, after she punched him in the face and tried to break his glasses, but it was only because he hadn't been listening to her. After all, he never listened to her. He was far too busy with homework, Amy, his scientific endeavors, plotting to capture Zim…

He spent more time chasing around a goddamn _alien _than he did acknowledging his sister's existence. And it _obviously _hurt her.

What the hell kind of a big brother was he?

—

"You're going to have to learn to eat Earth food sometime, you know," Gaz pointed out, stabbing at her salad with her fork. "I know people are stupid and unobservant, but not everyone is _that _stupid."

Zim was sitting across from her at a table at the mall's food court. While her half of the table was overrun with a salad, fries, a burger, slice of pizza, and a hot dog, with an Orange Julius on the side, his was completely empty. He scowled at her, his arms folded over his chest. "Foolish human," he retorted, though his words were lacking his usual malice and volume. "Your disgusting Earth food causes a great and terrible reaction within the body of the almighty Zim. I shall never consume such vile creation."

She glared at him as she took a sip from her drink and picked up the hot dog. "Some almighty being _you _are," she said flatly. "Your weaknesses to pretty much everything on this planet make this mission of yours practically suicide, huh?" She took a bite, her eyes downcast, and did not see his antennae lift in surprise or the fractional widening of his eyes. "I mean," she went on, swallowing, "if I were to send one of my invaders to another planet to destroy it and take over or whatever my goal was, I'd want to make sure my men were not only competent enough to perform such an important task, but that they could survive in the enemy environment; and well. I'd want to know that, in promoting my 'superior' race, we actually _were _superior. It would absolutely be murder to send my invader to a planet where there were more things _hindering _his survival and therefore progress than aiding him." She took up her burger and refocused her attention on it, not noticing his abnormal silence.

Her words had stunned him. He didn't know what he could say to that. It was impossible that the Irken race _wasn't_ superior to every other, and yet she had a frighteningly valid point. As much as he disliked—no, _loathed _it, he would be lying through his teeth if he said his body was strong enough to handle this planet without technological help.

He shook his head, finally getting the sense knocked back into him. "My Tallest would never send their greatest invader on such a great, top-secret mission as conquering Earth for the Irken Empire if they had even the slightest idea that it could not be done." He frowned, rather annoyed that she was still so absorbed in her disgusting burger. More firmly, he added, "On this planet at least, you humans may have me beat biologically, but you are no match for Irken technology. With the equipment at my disposal, I could easily dominate this worthless planet without any trouble, and your silly _biological superiority_ would crumble before me. And so, you _are _inferior."

The Gaz-human flicked her amber eyes up at him. "So why haven't you yet?" she demanded, her eyes flashing.

He faltered; was she angry? What had he done now? Somewhat flustered, he asked heatedly, "What do you mean, why haven't I yet?"

"You say you could take over the world without any trouble," she challenged, "so why is it that after six years the planet is still free and not under Irken rule?"

Anger burned in him. He should destroy her for saying such things. What did she know? She was just a _filthy_ Earthen worm-baby. She was disgusting… but, for once, Zim thought better of it. _It would ruin my ingenious plan, _he reasoned, but he was still pissed. He looked at her monstrous amount of food and snapped, "WHY do you EAT so much? It is_ SO _disGUSting!"

She snorted, not surprised he had changed the topic. "I'm hungry, you shithead," she snapped back, though that wasn't entirely true. Gaz had always had a hearty appetite, and her love of food came second only to video games. But in more recent years, the pleasure of eating had become not merely an enjoyable pastime that satisfied her insatiable hunger and tickled her taste buds, but also a way of avoiding the world around her. When she was sad, she ate. When she felt completely alone or worthless, she ate. When she was angry, she lashed out physically or verbally, and then ate. She never seemed to gain any weight, though she secretly wished she would just get fat like everyone else; it would give her one more good reason to hate herself.

Her current excess of food items was helping her to get over the misery that had possessed her previously in the H&M, as was, strangely, her conversation with Zim. She had refused to explain her emotional breakdown, and was surprised but thankful when he left it at that—though it was probably because he didn't care at all, and was glad not to have to actually discuss it. When she ate food, she could sink away from her woes and just be at some shaky peace… at one with the pizza…

Though it wasn't just that, either. She really was hungry. She'd forgotten, but a little under two hours ago she'd discarded her mostly-uneaten bowl of Lucky Charms on her bedroom floor. Not that cereal kept her full, anyway. And, sure, a pile of greasy junk food wasn't the most appetizing thing at nearly ten in the morning, but damn it, if they were dumb enough to serve it so early, then she was going to have her greasy junk food.

"So what exactly are we to do on the rest of this day of hooky?" Zim asked suddenly, looking bored. "The amazing Zim refuses to do any more _shopping _for today."

"Uh," she grunted, rather unladylike. "Fine with me. We could go see a movie or something. Or whatever."

"A movie?" He frowned. "What could be possibly entertaining about watching a movie together?"

She shrugged, irritated again. "Man, I dunno, can I just eat my food and then we'll figure something out? Jesus, you're high maintenance…"

Zim huffed and drummed his three fingers on the table for a minute, then leaned back in his chair and waited crossly for the Gaz-human to finish. Though he was still fuming slightly, his thoughts had taken a darker turn, and her words laid over him like a suffocating blanket. He was surprised to find himself deeply troubled by this. Of _course _the Tallest knew what they were doing when they'd sent him here. Of _course _they had high expectations for him, and knew he was doing an excellent job, as they'd anticipated. But the fact still remained that it _had_ been six years since he first landed on this miserable planet, and he had not yet succeeded in his mission.

_It's all the filthy Dib-stink's fault, _he assured himself, nodding. _Yes, once the Dib is out of the way, then my path will be clear, and my mission fulfilled. _He eyed the Dibsister warily. His plan was ingenious, he knew; it had no holes. So why was he suddenly suspicious that she might sabotage it?


	6. Surprisingly Unrepulsive

A/N: I know unrepulsive isn't a word. But it sounds like something Zim would say. :)

Sorry for the long wait!

—

Chapter 6:

Surprisingly Unrepulsive

—

Despite promising to not hit him, Dib's girlfriend very appropriately whacked him on the back of the head when he revealed to her the events of this morning. He had been desperate to tell her and seek her help, as the guilt he felt was beginning to fester horribly in his entire body, and he almost vomited when he tried to swallow a bite of his lunch.

"How could you have been such an asshole?" Amy demanded, her own lunch forgotten in the midst of this news. "Even though being her big brother gives you auto rights to be a dick to her on occasion, it doesn't mean you can call her a bitch! Under _any_ circumstance!"

"I know, I _know,_" he answered, clearly pained. "I feel really awful. I should probably consider apologizing…" This comment was awarded with a death glare from her, and he turned red furiously. "Okay, okay, yeah, I'm going to apologize! Just stop _looking_ at me like that."

She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, still glaring. "You know, I'm really glad you feel so guilt-ridden about all this," she informed him. "Otherwise I'd be seriously worried you had no conscience to speak of. And as your girlfriend, I'd kind of like to believe you've got one of those."

"Of course I have a conscience," he retorted, a little defensively. "I'm a good person. I care about other people. That's why I'm so committed to—"

"If you say one word about _Zim,_" she interrupted, putting her hands up in disgust, "I swear I will not speak to you for the rest of the week. I can see _exactly_ why Gaz feels so neglected; I do too, sometimes. You have barely enough time for either of us because you're completely obsessed with that little green freak."

He slammed his fist on the table. "I have just cause!"

"Whatever, Dib."

"You are being completely unreasonable. You know he's an alien and a threat to our world. You should be more supportive of what I do."

"And what _do_ you do?" she snapped. "Huh? What _good_ do you do, really, by dividing an enormous portion of your life to spying on and sabotaging the plans of an incompetent alien who would fail just as well without your help?"

He couldn't speak for a moment. He felt like she'd slapped him.

"Just because he's an alien doesn't mean he's here to conquer Earth," she went on. "And even if that was his reason for being here, if you took into account his self-destructive tendencies and ridiculous misuse of whatever technology he has, you'd realize that there isn't and never was any threat. But you can't see that. You live in some black-and-white world where different is evil and you are justice. And honestly, I'm not so sure I want to be a part of it anymore."

His head snapped up to meet her gaze, his heart suddenly pounding with worry. "What are you saying?" he asked. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"I don't know. Maybe." She took her tray and stood up. "I need some time to think."

"But wait—Amy, hold on, what did I do?"

"I'll talk to you later."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him utterly perplexed, and with a hollow feeling in his chest. How had that conversation gone so wrong? What had he said? How was any of this cause for leaving him? It had had nothing to do with her!

"Fuck my life," he whimpered, his head thumping on the table. "What the hell else will go wrong today?"

—

The flashing lights and pictures of the arcade game were mystifying to Zim, who had been watching Gaz play for some hour and a half now. He had mentioned only a few times at the beginning that he could not possibly see the pleasure in something like this, and wondered about her attraction to it, but when he realized she wouldn't respond to him, he'd stopped asking. And yet he was not impatient. Somehow he found himself perfectly content to just sit there on the stool beside her and watch her shoot pixelated lines at eight-bit sprites on a screen.

Gaz had flown into the arcade when they'd been wandering about the mall looking for something else to do. After that, it was as if Zim didn't even exist—or anything else, for that matter. He saw it when he watched her eyes—a dull, yet focused emptiness, that saw and processed and knew only the game. Her hands moved so quickly and dexterously to control what was on the screen, but her eyes betrayed no sign that she was thinking about her hands at all. She was a dead shell that breathed and lived but she was _alive_ in the game only. The world had fallen away, and there was nothing but the world of archaic graphics and flashing lights.

Zim really didn't know how much time was passing, and he didn't particularly care. He was hypnotized by the spellbound creature before him, and couldn't look away. At some point he had stopped watching the game altogether and was looking only at her. A strand of her purple hair was curled delicately on her shoulder, and he was mesmerized with it, and an overwhelming urge to touch it, to curl it around his finger. Entranced as he was, he was incapable of making any such move, not that he would in any case; but still the desire was there, as were various others. Her lips were parted ever so, frozen and still in her trance. They held a particular interest for Zim for some unfathomable reason.

His eyes were the sole part of him that could move, though they did so slowly, taking in the shape of her jaw and the lines in her neck, and the skin just above her collarbone, which was strangely delightful. As he watched her, his hunger grew; he must be hungry, for he was practically drooling. Some part of him, surely, understood the disgusting peculiarity of whatever was happening to him, but that part was being unusually quiet. He wasn't thinking of much, actually. A warm, surprisingly unrepulsive sensation simmered throughout his body, growing slowly hotter as he continued to watch her, until he realized that he was burning, burning…

"Yes," Gaz hissed triumphantly as the final boss withered in his pixelated demise and the end cinematics came up. Her trance was broken instantly, but it was natural for her, a smooth transition from years of practice; Zim, on the other hand, was jerked out of his own spell with such tremendous force that he was literally flung back and landed hard on the floor. This was accompanied by a yell of surprise followed by a groan of pain, after which he then he proceeded to grunt out a steady stream of half-formed curses.

Gaz blinked for a moment, then began to snicker. "Good job, Zim," she teased. "Looks like _you _got sucked in by the game, too."

"Pfft... HA!" He glared at her and pointed at the game. "HA!" he repeated; "You think that _I,_ the GREAT ZIM, could POSSIBLY be drawn in by the senselessness of this _FILthy_ Earthen gaming machine? How STUPID do I seem to you?"

She smiled crookedly, her arms crossed over her chest. "You want me to answer that question truthfully?" she asked, her eyes dancing with laughter.

"Hmph!" He stood up and dusted himself off before returning his glare to her. "Well _you _appear in a finer mood," he noted, almost accusingly. "Does the human 'arcade game' have some form of hypnotic brain soothers that cause pleasure to the feeble human mind?"

"Actually, yeah." She leaned her elbow on the game and her head in her hand and watched the rolling credits as they began to finish. "Most intense gamers don't do much else. Video games have a way of absorbing all your attention, and it's perfectly mindless. Kids lose hours and hours every day playing games when they only mean to be on it for a few minutes."

"Then what is the point?" he asked, climbing back onto his stool beside her. "Are you humans really so foolish as to _desire _the absence of thought?"

She turned her eyes toward him, her expression blank. "Sure," she answered. "It's so much more peaceful like that." Her eyes darkened, and she looked away. "Haven't you ever wanted to just slip out of reality and hide away in a world where none of your problems exist?" She traced the outline of one of the buttons with a finger, long and slender. She sounded far away when she spoke. "When you game… things just fade away. The only thing you have to worry about is how to find the magic key, or defeat the zombies, or whatever you've gotta do to get to the next level. And nothing _hurts._ That's probably the most important part."

Zim pondered this for a moment. "So," he asked, "if the world were deprived of not only video games, but all mind-numbing entertainment, everyone would be in pain?" He smiled delightfully, his voice wrought with glee.

Suddenly, her hand was around his throat, her other hand pointing at him threateningly. "You listen here, Zim," she warned. "Don't even _think_ about what I _know_ you're thinking about. I _need_ those things to survive this hell. If you so much as come up with a plan to do _anything_ of the sort, I'll come strangle your skinny little neck 'til you're unconscious, then I'll drag your undisguised body out to my dad's lab and have you slapped on an autopsy table. I know my brother's incompetent and couldn't carry out this threat, but_ I_ can, and I _will_ do it. You got that?"

Some part of Zim figured he should be paying more attention to what the earth-female was saying and less to the tingly feeling around his neck, but it was strangely difficult. Nevertheless, he managed to nod in response, and she let him go, leaving an odd feeling of disappointment in his chest.

"Okay, so, what do you want to do next?" She was standing now, and looking aside in thought. "We could still maybe hit a movie. I don't really want to do much of anything right now."

He merely grunted his reluctant agreement and followed her out of the arcade, his normal grumpy Zim self creeping back to him. Were these really the sorts of things he'd have to do to make friends with the Dibsister? His plan seemed more like a chore, really, than anything… but, if it was for the betterment of his main goal, then so be it. And yet, in the back of his mind he couldn't help but think that, well… the earth-female was not nearly as repulsive as he had expected.


	7. Dib Decides

Forgive me for the pitiful length of this chapter. I needed to update desperately, and I'm a college student now.

Again, I sincerely apologize. This is pathetic beyond belief. My next chapters will NOT be like this.

—

Chapter 7:

Dib Decides

—

The rest of the day passed with a movie—through which Zim had difficulty sitting still and paying attention, for he was puzzled as to why he was buzzing inside—and some putting around the mall before Gaz decided they should leave.

"What?" asked Zim, confused. "Is our hooky day over?"

"Well, yeah," Gaz replied, shrugging; "school's out soon, so, basically."

Zim frowned then. "Does that mean Zim must take you home now?" he asked. His antennae fell; had the day gone by that quickly? Did he not have a few hours left to try and befriend the earth female?

Much to his pleasure, she shrugged. "You could, but I don't really care," she told him. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away, eyes narrowed. "I don't exactly want to go home."

"Oh, so, the Gaz-human and Zim could continue to—what was the phrase again? 'Hang out'?"

She glanced at him, somewhat startled. "You… want to keep hanging out with me?" She would've thought he was itching to get rid of her. In fact, she was stunned to realize that in the last several hours of hanging out, aside from their lunch conversation, she had not heard him say a thing about world conquest, or his Tallest, or Dib, or anything like that. Actually, he hadn't mentioned Dib all day, since she'd blown up at him about it.

"It is none of Zim's concern whether or not he and the Gaz-human continue to _hang out,_" Zim announced, waving his hands around. "Zim simply is requesting the plans for the rest of the day." He was being facetious; he wanted to stay with Gaz for hours longer. He had become completely fascinated with her, and wanted to observe her further. She was, after all, imperative to the plan.

"Well, all right, then," said Gaz, still a little confused, but somehow pleased as well. "What to do, though…"

"We could always go back to the Gaz-human's favorite place," suggested Zim cheerfully. "That—vile little gaming room!"

Her eyes lit up, and before they knew it they were back in the arcade, she mindlessly watching the screen, he mindlessly watching her.

—

Dib was distraught. He didn't know if Amy was going to break up with him or not, and he still wasn't entirely sure why she was even considering it. What exactly had he done?

After school, he was torn between the choice of finding and talking to Amy, and returning home to plot more against Zim. He sat there stupidly in his car, key still in hand, pondering the question. Of course he should go seek Amy, but of course he should get back to work. After all, the alien had been mysteriously absent from school today, and that could only mean he was plotting something dreadful to destroy or enslave humanity. As a self-proclaimed defender of Earth, it was Dib's duty to stop Zim at all costs. However, Amy was…

"What are you, stupid?" he demanded aloud. "The fate of the earth is way more important than the fate of my relationship. Amy will understand; she's smart like that, she'll come around. And if not, then…"

Still, as he sat there contemplating, his eyes began to water and his head to pound. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut. _I've really messed up today,_ he thought. _I've really hurt my sister and my girlfriend, the two most important people in my life, the people who love me most in this world. _But how could he look himself in the mirror, how could he call himself a man, if Zim's plans succeeded and wiped out the human race? There wouldn't _be_ an Amy or a Gaz or anyone else to love and care about him. He was doing this because he loved them, didn't they see that? Why was that so difficult for them to understand?

They did have a point, though, in reference to how long Zim had been here and done no damage… but then, it was Dib's work that kept him from succeeding all these years. Didn't he deserve at least a thank you? Forget eternal worship and fame and glory—he didn't even get thanked for any of his long, hard work. Not one single thank you, only eye rolling and exasperation. And if Amy was right, and this was all his life was, just Zim… there had to be an end.

"It's settled then."

He gripped the wheel tightly, then sat up straight and turned on the car.

"Thwarting his plans isn't enough," he decided. "It's time I get off this rat wheel."

He pulled out of his spot and zipped out of the parking lot, heading home as quickly as he could. His plan was urgent— it was dire. It was time to do the deed.

It was time to kill Zim.


	8. F to R

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Hopefully this chapter is worth it :3 And it's a lot longer too, like I promised! :D (The Internet was out for 2 hours today before my lab. I had absolutely nothing else to do XD). For those of you who also read _Extraterrestrial,_ I've been updating that too. Enjoy!

—

Chapter 8:

F to R

—

Gir was off his rocker when Zim finally came home; the little robot tackled the alien and wailed about how lonely he'd been.

"ENOUGH, _Gir,_" exclaimed Zim, pushing the robot away. "Leave me alone. I have much to think about."

"We gonna talk about destroying Dib again?" Gir asked with glee.

"Not tonight, Gir. I have spent the entirety of the day with the Dibstink's little sister. I now wonder if that was such a wise move."

Gir began to jump up and down excitedly. "Ooooooooooh-ee, Masta spend the WHOOOOLE day out with the Gaz-girl! Girlfriend is PREEEEETTY! When's the wedding? OOH! Do I get to wear a tuxedooo?"

"No, Gir, there is to be no talk of _weddings_ or _prettiness_!" Zim cried, strange heat rising to his cheeks.

"Aww, I'd look so good in a tuxedo…"

The little robot followed his master down into the secret base, where Zim immediately examined his plans for Operation ZAGF.

"I do not understand," he muttered to himself. "What could have possibly gone wrong? My plan was foolproof!"

"What da Masta talkin' 'bout?" Gir inquired.

"I appear to have become infected with some sort of earth sickness brought about by the female Gaz. COMPUTER! Analysis!"

"_Ugh,"_ grumbled the computer, shining Zim with a green light. _"Symptoms: flushed face, scattered thinking, shortness of breath, preoccupation with the female Gaz… overall heightened state of arousal. Diagnosis: Infatuation."_

"Infatuation!" exclaimed Zim. "What is THAT? It must be horrible! I don't feel like myself at all!"

The computer laughed. _"Why don't you go ask her about it? She should know."_

"And let her in on the secret that the infallible Zim contracted a deadly earthen virus? FOOLISH COMPUTERRR!"

"_My analysis does not conclude it to be deadly."_

"Your analysis-schemalysis!" Zim snapped. "I wish to be left ALOOONE!"

The computer gladly shut down, and Gir did cartwheels along the floor. "I like snooow!" he cried.

"GIR! Leave me! The… Scary Monkey Show is on!"

Gir gasped in delight and then hurried, screaming, up to the surface. Zim sat in his chair by his plans and sighed. He wondered what the Gaz-human was doing right now. He'd felt strangely reluctant to leave when he finally took her home, but he rather desired avoiding a confrontation with the Dib at that time.

He felt so odd. Instead of thinking about his plans, all he could focus on was the way the female's purple hair curled around her face. Thoughts of universal conquest were thwarted by thoughts of the light in her amber eyes when she laughed. He thought about the things she'd told him, and was surprised he had even listened. Then he remembered her sadness in the clothing store, and the tears she'd cried.

The tears. Those shook him up more than anything. And he didn't understand at all. Had he done something? He couldn't think he had. But what else could it be? Perhaps relating somehow to the Dib? But what had he done? He'd studied humans long enough to know they did not simply burst into tears without cause. And such a shattering display of vulnerability… yet Zim hadn't used it to his advantage—in fact, he'd been terrified of it.

"_Tell me what is wrong so I might fix it and stop this senseless crying!"_

Why had he been so unnerved by it? Why hadn't he laughed? And for that matter, why wasn't he laughing now? Why was he still unnerved?

And then he remembered the conversation they'd had afterward, at lunch. The Gaz clearly believed humans were superior to Irkens… yet it was not a possibility. The earth girl was mistaken, of course. But he himself had admitted the humans _were_ superior, biologically. "On this planet at least," he'd said, "you humans may have me beat biologically…"

Superior…

"No!" he cried aloud. "There are none more superior to the Irken race. The—the earth-girl is trying to trick me!"

Yet even as he said it, his antennae fell back and his shoulders slumped.

Who was this foolish earth girl, anyway, that she could make him so confused? That she could make him feel _doubt_! He, doubt the Irken race? It was unthinkable! It was wrong! But he couldn't shake that awful feeling—the feeling that he'd… been lied to… by his Tallest.

Perhaps it was his fault somehow. No, he was faultless. He looked at his frame. He'd made himself taller to blend in with the indigenous life… He'd thought it an impossibility too, at the time. He had gone from one of the shortest in the Empire to this. And being quite so tall, he couldn't bring himself to show himself to his Tallest. It would be a mark against them. A betrayal. Who was he to betray his Tallest?

He groaned and let his head fall onto the plans.

—

"Gaz! Where have you been?"

She cringed at the sound of Dib's voice, and turned to look out the door. Zim was already gone. _Glad to be rid of me, _she thought as her brother pounded into the entry.

"Are you okay, Gaz? It's one in the morning… where on earth have you been?"

She looked through him, as if he wasn't there, and headed up to her bedroom.

"Gaz? Gaz! Answer me! Where have you been?"

Still she did not respond. She did not feel the need to dignify him with acknowledgement. She reached the stairs and he grabbed her wrist. Her eyes filled with hate, but she did not look at him as she tugged at her arm.

"You're not going anywhere," he said. "Not until you've told me where you've been all day."

Though she despised him for it, he was too strong and she too weak. She'd never get away while he held her here. "It's not any of your business," she hissed. "You're not my father."

"No, but I _am_ your brother."

"Ha! Some brother you are."

He sighed. "I know I've been… kind of a dick to you lately."

She snorted.

"No, really, listen. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said this morning, and I definitely didn't intend to hurt you. You have to see it from my perspective, Gaz—you were coming after me with basically a knife. Of course I'm going to run away and call you crazy."

She shook her head, smiling bitterly. "No, you idiot. That's when you stand still and let me pound on you. What could I honestly do to hurt you? I'm clearly not even strong enough to get away."

"I'm sorry, okay? I really am. You're my sister, I care about you, but sometimes I take you for granted. Like you'll still love me even if I'm an asshole, just because I'm your brother. But I know it doesn't work like that."

"No. No, it doesn't."

"I want to make it up to you somehow. But damn it, Gaz, will you please_ look _at me?"

"I don't want to talk to you," she murmured quietly. "Could you let me go? …Please?"

He hesitated, then, with another sigh, loosened his grip. She zipped up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind her. Dib shook his head and sank onto the step, holding his head in his hands.

_Soon,_ he thought. _As soon as I kill Zim, it'll all be over, and I can focus on being a proper brother and a good boyfriend. Everything will be better._

_As soon as I… kill Zim._

Gaz got undressed and slid into her bed, and though she was exhausted, she couldn't sleep. Today had been so bizarre. She really hung out with Zim all day. After she stopped gaming, they grabbed dinner and bummed around the mall until eight, when they closed it. They then went to his place and watched TV until about fifteen minutes ago.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had companionship, and for so long as an entire day. And with _Zim,_ of all people. But it hadn't been nearly as bad as she would've expected. He was surprisingly easy to be around. If she didn't feel like talking, he'd actually be quiet. Sometimes he made her laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd really laughed like that. As she lay in bed, thinking about the day, she held a pillow to her chest and sighed.

For a really crappy day, it had been a pretty good day.

—

Zim looked hard at the plans laid out before him. He tapped his finger against his mouth, considering many variations and possibilities to his plan. Now that he had been infected, things would have to take a drastic turn. Who knew how long it would be before he succumbed completely to the deadly symptoms? He needed to find a cure.

He spent the next few hours thoroughly researching this 'infatuation,' as it were called. According to the Internet, it was a kind of sickness that appeared at random and consumed the individual. No one was immune to it, and there were few solutions that worked. The only thing that seemed to work without fail, and without resulting in some terrifying condition called "heartbreak," was having the infatuation returned by another. This obviously meant that the carrier of the disease had to infect another human, who then had to infect the original human again. From what Zim could scrounge from this analysis, infatuation was a horrid disease, as the only cure was to neverendingly infect and be reinfected by the object of the infatuation. Doing so resulted in what appeared to be very pleasant sensations, and humans regarded the infection of their infector to be a very positive experience. And yet it sounded so dangerous!

"What is wrong with humans," he wondered, "that they toy with—and _seek out,_ and _enjoy!_—such a terrible disease as this! And to think that _I,_ ZIM, was infected! Arrgh! What to do!"

As he sat there brooding, a loud "WEEEEEEEEEE!" came echoing through the lab.

"GIR!" he shouted, as the little robot fell from a crevice in the ceiling and onto the floor. "I thought I told you to leave me alone!"

"But Masta, it's time for school!" The robot began to dance happily. "Schooly schooly schooly school!"

"Eh?" Zim checked the clock. "Gir! School does not start for another hour!"

"Aww, but Masta gotta go pick up girlfriend!"

"She's not my—" But he stopped. He'd encountered this topic in his research. Upon looking up ways to 'reinfect' his infector—the Gaz, in his case—he'd come across many how-to articles as well as some frightening website called Cosmopolitan. An idea hit him; he snapped his fingers. "It's GENIUS!"

Reinvigorated, he began to erase and rewrite parts of his plan, eventually scrapping it for an entirely new one. He made to write the words _Operation ZAGF 2,_ when Gir bumped up beside him as he was writing the 2, making the F and the 2 mold together into what looked like an R.

"GIR!" he yelled, but stopped. _Operation ZAGR,_ it said. Zim-and-Gaz… Romance? He smiled. "IT'S PERFECT!"

"Girlfriend waiting!"

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "I haven't called her!"

The robot lowered his lids and grinned. "No problem," he said, holding up the phone. "I texted her." He pulled at an invisible collar at his neck, blew on his knuckles, and then rubbed them against his shoulder.

"Gir! You did something not worthless!"

"I know," said the robot, "I'm a total boss."

Zim looked at the clock. "Great ball of Irk! I'm going to be late!" He hurried above and made to put on his disguise, when he eyed the shopping bag sitting by the couch. He considered it, and then put on jeans and a t-shirt and shoes. To Gir he said, "My new plan, Gir; it's AMAZING! Instead of merely befriending the Dibsister, I shall both befriend her _and_ ward off this deadly infatuation!"

"But how?" asked the robot.

"It's simple!" Zim raised his arm, pointing at the sky. "I shall woo her!"


End file.
